The Greatest Gift
by Sher Sher
Summary: A story I wrote for my friend Sarah's birthday with the lamest title!! Oh well... it features H/R, so if you don't like them together, them bugger off... ^^ Very sappy and whatnot. Read on.


**The Greatest Gift**

Boo-yah!! It's me, Dakki, the Queen of original titles. ^_^; This shortish fanfic was written for a very special occasion... for my friend Sarah, and for her birthday!! :D She's a very supportive fan and friend of mine, and likes my HP fiction, so I decided to dedicate this to her in honor of her special day and how poor I am. :P ::sings:: Happy birthday to Sarraahhh...

Disclaimer: All characters and setting, etc. are property of the spectacular J.K. Rowling. I own the plot to this story, as well as Alfred, the computer who helped get it here. >:)

~*~

"Poly-toshi," drawled the sad voice, and the picture known as the Fat Lady swung open, allowing her entrance into the Gryffindor Common Room. She clambered through, really quite lazily, and frowned in disappointment as she realised that her two best friends were nowhere in sight. She walked through the room and towards the fire, waving and flashing forced grins at the many students who grinned and cheered at her. Not one, however, had been one of the two people she would most like to see.

A sigh escaped her pursed lips. It wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend, no... and Dean had told her that they weren't in their room, however reliable his information may be... but she had looked all over the castle, Hagrid's cabin, the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest and the Shrieking Shack. Where in heaven's name could they be?

She sat down, frustrated and depressed.

How could they have forgotten her birthday?

~*~

The previous night, Hermione had made sure to drop subtle hints wherever possible - "I can't wait until tomorrow..." "Being fifteen will definetly make me appear more like a Prefect..." "Too bad my parents are muggles and couldn't make it." Okay, the majority were not-so-subtle, but the fact only made her disappointment more profound. Sure, every other Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had been sure to congratulate her, but all she really wanted was a "Happy Birthday, Herm!" and a one-armed hug from Ron and Harry. She didn't even care about presents; all that mattered was that the two most important people to her at Hogwarts gave her some recognition and their company.

But where were they?

"Hey, Hermione. Happy Birthday!"

Hermione spun around in high hopes, only to exhale her momentary excitement.

"Thank you, Neville." she said kindly.

"Mind if I sit with you?" Neville asked shyly, his wide brown eyes shimmering.

"No, go right ahead." she told him and shuffled over. A grin broke out on his chubby face and he took the empty seat, sinking into the miraculously soft, suede couch.

"That's really nice," he blushed, pointing at a golden star-shaped locket dangling in the hollow of her neck. Hermione's face went slightly pink, too, as she always did when Neville expressed the crush he had on her. It made her slightly uncomfortable, as well, but she continued being kind to him where others wouldn't anyway.

"Oh, thanks," her fingers subconciously found it and held it tightly in her palm. "I got it from my parents, for my bithday..." her voice trailed off as she saw the deadened look in Neville's eyes, remembering what he had confided to her about his own rather insane parents. "Um, so, have you seen Harry and Ron today?"

"No.. I haven't," he said energetically, as though someone had re-lit the flame that was of his soul. His expression turned into one of thought. "I actually hadn't noticed until you said anything. Why do you ask?"

"I just... I don't know," she sighed, letting go of the necklace and shrugging. "It seems as though they're forgotton all about me."

"I doubt they would do something like that. Maybe they're off looking for you?" Hermione shook her head.

"I don't think so, I already looked for _them_ all over the castle _and_ the grounds. We should have crossed paths by now." Neville kept glancing over his shoulder, as though expecting something behind him. It made Hermione slightly suspicious.

"I'm sure you'll see them soon." his voice sounded reassuring, but final and secretive.

"I hope so... I'm sorry, Neville, but I'm really feeling tired now. It must be the heat from the fire or something. I think I'm going to go have a quick nap before dinner." she tried to sound as lighthearted as possible, so Neville wouldn't think anything was wrong; she didn't usually take naps.

"Okay, Hermy." he said, grinning oddly. She raised an eyebrow and stood up.

"See you later," she waved cheerfully, like a clown putting on a show. He waved back and watched her climb the stone steps to the girl's dormitories, only peeling his eyes away once the clicking of her shoes had long faded.

Hermione opened the door and saw Parvati sitting on her bed, scribbling on parchment with an assortment of books spread all over her messy bed. She looked up as Hermoine stepped in and shut the door.

"Hey! Happy Birthday!"

"Thanks," Hermione muttered, only feeling more depressed every time someone reminded her that today was her birthday.

"What's wrong?" Parvati asked, sitting her quill down in the bottle of ink on her bedside table, eyes twinkling curiously.

"Nothing. I don't know. It just hasn't been my day..." she lied, walking to her own bed and sitting on it. "...So I'm going to sleep it away." Parvati smiled.

"I suppose you're already done the essays for Potions, Transfiguration and History of Magic?"

"Of course, I finished them on Friday." she said dismissively, laying down under the sheets.

"Well, sweet dreams."

"If only," she mumbled to herself, and actually yawned. Hmm... maybe she really was tired, after all.

Her mind drifted off, breathing in the clean fall air and lazily listening to Parvati's quill begin whizzing across the paper once again.

~*~

Breath.

Hot breath on her face awoke her, and she almost cried out. Shock forced her eyes open, but the owner wasn't showing him or herself and the breathing had stopped.

"Peeves?" she guessed in a hush, sleepy whisper, pulling the blankets over her face with a shiver. Her body felt strangely cold, and the three homemade quilts (plus Hogwarts's shabby blankets) simply weren't enough to keep her warm. No answer came. She laid there for a while, feeling extremely exhausted and drowsy. All she felt like doing was going back to sleep...

But sleep didn't feel like co-operating with her. Something was keeping her awake; something was making sure that she wouldn't fall asleep again, no matter how tired she was. Hermione decided that she may as well get up and see what time it was instead of fighting the hopeless battle between her weak body and her alert mind.

She shoved the covers aside and looked around the dorm room, blinking and rubbing the grains of sleep from her eyes. Dull, yellow sunlight shone through the red and gold drapes, which were billowing out softly in the cool breeze. None of her roommates were present, and judging by the state of their beds, it was somewhere around evening. She had slept the whole day away. With that realization, the fact that she had slept away her entire _birthday_ dawned on her.

Just then, as though reading a book within the universe of her mind, she recalled how upset she had been because Harry and Ron hadn't been around for her 'special day' which, without them, really hadn't been anything special at all. She suddenly wondered if they were maybe planning something; the thought made her smile ever so slightly, but she doubted it. Still, the thought prompted her to leap out of bed, quickly throw on a sweater as her body began to shiver in the newfound cold, and rush to the door. She glanced at Lavender's block just to be certain; it was 7:23.

He stomach groaned. She had missed dinner.

That was when she noticed a letter taped to the door. It was addressed to her in green writing, the writing which was unmistakably Harry's.

A grin claimed her lips as she tore the letter from the door, never even stopping to wonder how Harry would had gotten inside her room.

She opened it and read its two lines.

_Whomping Willow. 8:30 tonight.   
Be there_

'Odd,' she thought, folding the note in half and pocketing it. Why would Harry want to meet her there? She knew that by pressing a certain knot in it's root, you could climb inside the tree, through an underground tunnel and into the well-known Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade, but Harry surely couldn't be planning to take her there. The Shrieking Shack was in horrible condition and liable of breaking down at any given time. Harry probably wouldn't want Hermione dying on her birthday.

Still, 8:30 was a little over an hour away, so she decided it would be best to bide her time by visiting the library.

Hermione exited the room, making sure to close the door carefully, like she always did. She treaded down the steps in a mixture of excitement and suspense, her half-inch heels clicking loudly on the rough stone floor. The Common Room was close to deserted; a few groups of first and sixth years sat scattered about it, every head looking up as she passed, then turning back to what it had been previously occupied with. She played with the hem of her sweater nervously as she stpped out of the Common Room, just as Ginny Weasley entered.

"Hermione! I've been looking everywhere for you!!" she said breathlessly, climbing through the portrait hole.

"Hey, Ginny. I was just going down to the library, would you like to join me?"

"Oh, sure. You missed dinner. Ron and Harry were wondering where you had gone to." Hermione's eyes flickered.

"They - they were at dinner?" she asked in an astounded sort of way.

"Well, yeah. You don't really think Ron would have missed a meal, would you?"

"But he wasn't there for breakfast or lunch..." Ginny chose to ignore this comment as they stepped into the hallway, the Fat Lady sneering at them for disturbing her twice. The walk was oddly silent, neither of them really having anything to say. Then Hermione thought bit. "Where are they now?"

"I haven't got a clue. They ran off before I was even done eating, saying they had some sort of 'appointment'." Ginny frowned as they pushed a door open and stepped into the bright library. "I'll bet they're up to something." Hermione felt her insides curl up. They were up to something, all right - and she was getting pretty annoyed with it.

~*~

Finally, 8:20 came, and Hermione said goodbye to Ginny as she put _"101 Rarely Known and Relatively Useless Potions Facts"_ back on it's shelf and headed down to the Main Hall. The school seemed eerily deserted and silent at this time of the day; most people were getting ready to do the homework which they had put off during the day or take a soothing bath. Even the ghosts didn't seem to be haunting the halls, nor were there any teachers lurking behind the corners.

She wanted to talk to someone, but that seemed incredibly stupid. She just imagined the look on someone's face as they caught her excitedly debating why she was going to the Whomping Willow at 8:30 on her birthday with the wall.

The thought made her giggle.

However, just as she stepped into the main foyer, she halted. There, standing by the door, was Harry.

She practically burst into tears and she ran and threw herself into his arms, spluttering angrily about where he had been all day. He gave her a reassuring pat on the back, flashing his trademark smile and, finally, prying her off.

"Merlin's beard, Harry, you great prat! Where've you been? I-"

"Woah, _woah_, Hermione. Calm down. Seriously," he told her, his deep green eyes widened in shock. "Settle down. I've been looking for you, too. I have something for you." he shoved the hand that wasn't restraining the giddy Hermione into his pocket, then after a moment's struggle, pulled of a pathetically wrapped box. He grinned sheepishly, handing it to her.

"Happy Birthday, Hermione."

And it was that which set her heart cheering. She tore Harry's bad wrapping job off to reveal a velvet rectangular box with a picture of a wand pressed into it. She opened the box carefully, gasping at what was in her hands.

She pulled out a beautiful, silver quill, which was shining so brightly it had to be magically enhanced. The feather was so perfect that it looked like wispy strands of moonlight fluff. Beneath the quill was a book with pressed leaves and flowers on the paper maché cover. She opened it and saw empty pages with the word 'Date:' at the top of every other one; it was a journal. Resting on top of the journal was a bottle of ink.

"It writes in silver," Harry explained, noticing her dumbfounded look. She smiled broadly and looked up at him, giving her presents a squeeze.

"Thank you," she whispered sincerely. Somehow, all her anticipation had only made the gift sweeter and so much better.

"You're welcome," Harry said, obviously glad that she liked his gift.

"Errr... where's Ron?" she asked slowly as her eyes darted around the hall.

"I dunno," Harry looked behind his shoulder and out into the dark field, his back supporting the open door. "He was right behind me a minute ago..."

"Well, I guess I don't have to go to the Whomping Willow, now that I've already found you." Harry turned to look at her.

"Come again?"

"Well, why bother going to meet you there if you're right here...?" he blinked at her, and Hermione furrowed her brow. "Come on, Harry. Don't play stupid with me. I know you wrote the letter telling me to meet you there at 8:30." she shoved her hand into her own pocket and pulled out the letter which she had found earlier. Harry took it and read it.

"I didn't write this," he said, quite honestly.

"Of course you did, look, it's your writing..." she pointed out, but still he shook his head.

"I haven't written anything all day," he told her, handing it back. Hermione made a face at him.

"Well, if you didn't, then who did?" she snapped, and he raised his eyebrows at her.

"I dunno, why don't you find out?"

"I guess I will," and she took off, running out the door and into the field. Ron... _Ron_ had gotten Harry to write it. _Ron_ was obviously waiting for her, but why wouldn't Ron just show up with his best friend...? It didn't make sense, and her interpretation of their plan was now ruined as she was left in the dark once again...

She reached the Whomping Willow and stopped, looking around. There were no signs of anyone, not even the rustle of a branch or the crunch of a stick. She was about to call his name, when-

A hand flew out of nowhere and clamped itself around her mouth. She screamed against it, but made no more noise than a muffled moan. A soft sheet was thrown over her head as she heard someone whispering to her.

"... Shut up, Hermione, quiet down and come with me..." was all she had made out. She stopped screaming, though her eyes were still dilating in fear as her heart beat faster than she ever thought possible. The hand was taken from her mouth and she spun around, coming nose to nose with her 'attacker'.

"Hi," Ron grinned at her, and she instantly felt her cheeks flush a deep shade of red as she pushed him away.

"Ron, what're you-"

"Stop struggling, I'm not going to hurt you," he said, pulling her arm towards the Whomping Willow. "We're under Harry's Invisibility Cloak. C'mon, we're going to the Shrieking Shack..."

"Why?" her voice sounded scared, maybe even terrified, but Ron gave her a reassuring look.

"It's a surprise." she narrowed her eyes and considered hitting him. "Don't worry about it, you're safe with me..."

They ran in sync under the Whomping Willow's swinging branches, and Ron prodded it's root; instantly, it stopped moving, and he made space for Hermione to jump inside. She did so, and he followed her.

"It's not worth asking-" Hermione began.

"Nope," he answered quickly as they walked through the dark tunnel. Hermione rolled her eyes. Behind her, she heard Ron mutter _'Lumos'_ and then there was light; she pulled out her own wand and did she same thing. Her cheeks continued to burn, she didn't know why, and there were butterflies in her stomach. They neared the entrance and Ron skidded in front of her.

"Close your eyes," he said. With great hesitation, she did. _'What the hell is he planning?'_ her mind asked. "Now, grab onto me..." she clamped a sweaty hand on Ron's warm arm and felt a chill run down her spine. "...And I'll guide you in. Only open your eyes when I tell you or you'll completely ruin everything. _You can trust me_," he added, seeing the look of uncertainty on her face.

Hermione knew the way through the secret trap only too well, so got through it fairly easily, though she did fumble a bit; Ron guided her for about ten steps, then stopped. He seemed to be thinking.

"Alright, open your eyes."

And so she did.

Once again, her mouth dropped in amazement; the entire place had been completely redecorated; there were at least a hundred candles stationed around the room, their milky light illuminating every corner. There was a table with two comfortable-looking chairs on either side; goblets of dark liquid and plates of pasta and dessert lay upon it; and there were sily purple drapes on the windows. But that wasn't the end of it. The room was generally cleaned. _'So this is what they were off doing all day,'_ her mind rationed.

She suddenly wondered why Ron had led her to a deserted, candlelit hideout with a table seated for two.

"Ron..." she began nervously, but he pressed his fingers to his lips and dug a hand into his robes. She noticed that he was dressed in his best outfit today, though with his cloak on, obviously to keep him warm while he had waited for her in the cold wind. He grabbed her hand gently and pulled her over to a couch by the wall, where they both sat. He was biting his lip and clearing his throat; above the fancy food, elegant candlelight and semi-sophisticated clothes, he looked a nervous wreck. He kept opening his mouth as though he was about to speak, but his chin bobbed, as though he was unable to put it in words. After a half-minute of doing this, he sighed heavily, and turned to face her fully.

"Her - Hermione," he began, his voice shaking slightly. "I've... I've never been good at doing this, then again, I never really have before..." his fingers were fiddling distractedly in his pocket. "But, well, I don't think I really have to explain myself too much. I'm only doing this because I think it may just work; and I certainly hope it does." he took a deep, shuddering breath, then continued.

"Ever since I met you, I've thought you were really something. Something special, something different. You weren't at all like the other girls, who were busy messing around with their hair and makeup and clothes. You were smart, kind, courageous and didn't care about that stupid rubbish. Over the years, I've really become attatched to you... and, I've become really fond of you. I've tried to hide it, tried to regret it... but you saw how jealous and angry I got when you went to the ball with Krum last year... well, it's only because I wanted to be in that place. You mean so much to me, Herm... you and Harry are the closest people to me, but I was just wondering tonight if maybe..." he pulled out the box and handed it to her. His hand was shaking. "...If maybe you wanted to become a bit closer."

She just stared at him, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotions in her body. From head to toe she was tingling, like she had just bathed in happiness. Ron's words struck her heart; she had felt the same way for so long, imagining what holding Ron could be like, or even kissing him... but she had ignored those thoughts, convincing herself that she had simply been around Parvati and Lavender too much. She took the box, which, like Harry's, was velvet - only smaller. Her heart was in her throat as she pried open the lid. There, in a mass of pink fuzz, sat a golden bracelet. It had a row of hearts attatched to it, linked to a chain of gold loops. She shook her head in awe and disbelief. surely Ron couldn't have legally afforded this...

"It was my mum's," he said quickly, his freckled cheeks flaming. "She - she gave it to me, and told me that when I found the girl who ... who I truly loved, to give it to her." she looked up at him with a surprised expression. Those damned chills were back... "And, so, I'm giving it to you.. Happy Birthday, Hermione. Would you be my girlfriend?"

Tears welled up in her eyes as she took Ron in her arms, holding him in a tight embrace that said everything she had been dying to show over the past four and a half years. She felt his hands on her back and his chin on her shoulder.

"Oh, Ron, yes," she sobbed, now aware as tears flooded down her cheeks and fell to the creaky floor. She instantly felt his arms pull her closer as their embrace became a genuine bear hug, and he laughed.

"Herm..." he moaned amidst fits of laughter, laughter of joy... a feeling of four year's love resided in one touch. It was like she could do anything in the world. There was no way to stop the grin on both their faces as Ron pulled away. He gazed into her sparkling brown eyes with his own sea blue ones for a fleeting moment that contained an eternity, then slowly leaned in to brush his lips against hers in their first kiss...

~*~

Hermione still couldn't stop the grin which had begun a year ago as she lay in Ron's arms, examining the golden bracelet with her fingers. She was now sixteen, and the memory of her and Ron's step in their friendship was still as clear in her mind as yesterday. Not once had she taken off that bracelet, and not once had she ever even thought about being with anyone except Ron. She began to laugh as Ron gave a snore; he had fallen asleep.

She glanced at the clock and saw that it was 9:05. That was precisely the time that Hermione had officially accepted his offer. Regardless of the fact that he wasn't awake to share the feeling with her, she tightened her hold on his lanky waist and sat up to kiss him for the hundredth time.

_'You're the greatest gift I could ever ask for, Ron Weasley,'_ she thought as he woke up, struggled against her for a few seconds and then returned the kiss eagerly. _'The Greatest Gift.'_

~End~


End file.
